


Alien Meddling

by azaleaknight



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: Aliens Made Them Do It, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 22:49:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10706781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azaleaknight/pseuds/azaleaknight
Summary: Sharing a hotel room leads to some nighttime adventures.





	Alien Meddling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



Archer was dozing next to Lana when the aliens came.

In an ideal world, he would have been dozing next to Lana _all by herself_. Alas, Cyril was snoring on the other side of her. Not by his choice, mind you. ISIS had suffered what Malory called "a temporary fluctuation in finances," which meant that for this latest op the three of them had been stuffed into the same hotel room. Two people to a hotel room had definite potential--especially if Archer _happened_ to be working with the deliciously curvy Lana. But Cyril? Why Cyril?

Things had gone wrong almost from the start. One of the hostiles had blasted off Cyril's eyeglasses without doing any damage to the rest of him. (Sometimes Archer thought snidely that Cyril would have benefited from having his cock shortened a little. Okay, maybe a lot.) But here, 437 bullets later, they were alive and safe and tired.

Except, of course, the aliens.

The three of them floated in through the window, which opened out to moonlit verandah. Archer, only half-awake, squinted into the gloom and saw a glowing saucer hovering just beyond the balcony. _I need to start drinking better vodka,_ he thought.

The aliens themselves were thin, with bulbous grey heads and enormous lambent eyes. Sleek clothing of silver sheathed their bodies and caught every nuance of the faint light. Some optical trick made it impossible to tell how far away they were standing, as though a dimensional tunnel separated them from Archer.

"Arise, humans," one of the aliens intoned in a sepulchral voice.

Archer' found that he couldn't reach for his pistol, which he'd kept under the pillow despite Lana's complaints ("It's too bumpy, Archer! I can't sleep with that under my head!") and Cyril's nerves ("What if it goes off in our sleep?"). Then he noticed that he wasn't wearing his nightclothes anymore, which made him wonder if Lana was now naked (good), to say nothing of Cyril (ugh, no!). Blood surged to his groin and his hard-on tented the blanket. As if that wasn't distracting enough, Archer saw another, much larger bulge on the other side of Lana.

"What's going on?" Cyril mumbled. He groped around for his glasses, even though he had neglected to bring a spare pair, and ended up with his hand squarely on top of one of Lana's breasts.

"An excellent start to the experiment," another alien said. "We'll leave you to it." The aliens conferred among themselves in a chittering, inhuman language. Archer thought he spotted one of them taking notes on them.

By then, Lana had woken as well. "Well, isn't _this_ exciting," she said, grinning wickedly as she looked first to one side, then the other. "A girl could get used to this kind of attention."

"I'm happy to give you all the attention you want, Lana," Cyril said. He sounded more alert now. "You know that!"

"After the number of times you cheated on me?"

"It's sex addiction! It's a legitimate psychological condi--"

Lana rolled her eyes, then flung off the blankets and grabbed Cyril's head. "Less talking, more licking," she said, her voice throaty. "If you like it so much, lover-boy, why don't you demonstrate?"

Cyril rolled over onto his hands and knees, somewhat awkwardly because of the hold that Lana still had on him, then kissed his way down from between Lana's breasts with their erect nipples to her taut belly. Lana moaned and tugged his ear encouragingly. Cyril broke free of her only to bend over her moist slit. He began licking her clit with unmistakable enthusiasm.

Archer couldn't deny how much this display turned him on, even though part of him muttered that the last thing he wanted to do was watch while his archrival (sort of) pleasured his on-again off-again lover. Resisting the overpowering urge to reach down and stroke his boner, he sat up, wondering where he could go. Was the hotel bar open at this hour?

"Oh, you're not getting away that easily," Lana said in the husky tone that she knew he found so arousing. "Get back in bed."

Involuntarily, Archer looked back at her. The shimmering light from the window illumined the slopes of her breasts and made an ebony-and-silver sculpture of her body: the pillar of her neck, the perfect curves of her hips, the long legs bent to trap Cyril's head between her knees. He inhaled involuntarily, and his cock jumped at the sheer delicious sight of her.

"Get back in bed and do what?" Archer said, hoarse with desire.

Her wicked grin glinted at him, and she arched her back, twisting toward him to flaunt her breasts. They jiggled and shifted as she thrust her hips back and forth in response to Cyril's expert tongue. Archer's mouth went dry.

"Come on," Lana drawled, "you're not going to tell me that you're less of a man than Cyril, are you?"

That did the trick. Balls aching, Archer leaned down and buried his face between Lana's breasts, inhaling her smell: the fancy floral body wash she favored, the faint salt of sweat, the inescapable nearby musk of her pussy as Cyril serviced her. He kissed her, kneading first one breast, then the other. Encouraged by the noises she was making, he sucked on her nipple. It was pebbled and hard, and her voice broke as he circled it with his tongue.

Lana had thrown her head back, and her eyes were enormous pools in the darkness. Archer could still hear the aliens gibbering in the background, but he no longer cared. They might as well have been on the moon. All that mattered was touching Lana, tasting the richness of her skin, teasing her into those bird-cries of pleasure. And, of course, making her come before that bastard Cyril beat him to it.

Archer came up for air and glanced back toward Cyril. The other man was still slurping greedily, but one hand rested on Lana's knee while the other hugged her thigh. Archer flashed back to the sight of Cyril's monstrous erection beneath the blanket. He couldn't help himself: his own cock stiffened further, beyond what he had thought possible, and he started humping against Lana's pliant flank thinking about it. What if he or Cyril lost control first?

Lana's breathing grew increasingly ragged. Archer returned his attentions to her upturned breasts, suckling one while he groped the other and pinched her nipples. She gasped strange wordless noises. He kept listening for his name or Cyril's, some evidence that one of them had defeated the other, but no--instead she kept moaning, higher and higher, louder and louder. Someone banged on the hotel room's wall, but Lana gave no evidence that she gave a damn. Certainly Archer didn't.

At last Lana cried out as she convulsed in orgasm, her voice high and piercing. Archer stared not just at her but also at Cyril, who loyally continued licking her pussy. Watching Lana getting serviced by another man tipped Archer over the edge, and he grunted as his balls tautened. He grabbed his cock and managed to aim himself at Lana's belly.

"Thanks, guys," Lana said some time later, after her breathing had slowed. "You're the best."

"Of course we are," Cyril said, sounding blurry with pleasure. Archer bet he had come, too, and his cock stirred at the thought.

Lana scoffed. "I wasn't talking to you." And she waved cheerily at the aliens, who waved back before shimmering out of sight.


End file.
